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“Hurry up, Ross, we’re gonna miss boarding!” Rob yelled to Ross, who was currently ordering at one of the little bakeries available inside of the airport.
“It’s not my fault they have so much good stuff! Plus, boarding takes forever, we’ll be fine sacrificing a few minutes.” Rob groaned, impatiently tapping his foot on the ground and tightly gripping the strap of his backpack. Zubin just laughed at how angry Rob was, opening his back pack and checking his things for probably the billionth time since they’ve entered the airport.
“Jesus Christ, Zubin, you have everything you need!” Joe groaned, rolling his eyes.
“Someone could have pick-pocketed me! You never know.”
“Way too paranoid.” Joe said under his breath, looking around. Andrew just stood there, on his phone waiting for Ross to finish so they could get to their terminal. Then he realized he really needed to pee. He supposed he could go now, since they were already waiting for Ross. He tapped Zubin, who was next to him.
“Hey, I’m gonna go to the bathroom-“
“Oh, perfect, I need to go too! Come on.” The duo told Joe and Rob where they were going, both of them nodding and letting them go on their way.
“Here, hold my hand, it’s way too crowded in here.” Zubin said, Andrew hesitating before taking it. Zubin intertwined their fingers, and suddenly Andrew’s heart started racing.
To be honest, he isn’t sure how Zubin isn’t feeling as awkward as he is right now.
See, for the past the last few weeks Andrew has been having some seriously confusing thoughts about his feelings towards Zubin. At first, he thought they were completely platonic, that he just enjoyed being around the man and talking about whatever would come to mind because they were that type of friends.
Then, he noticed his heart started racing whenever Zubin would compliment his song writing or piano skills, whenever they would accidentally brush hands when walking just a bit too close together, whenever their legs brushed up against one another when sitting together.
Yeah, those weren’t platonic.
Then something happened that really toyed with Andrew’s feelings.
The band was at a bar, already three hours into their hangout meaning all of them (except Ross since it was his turn to be the designated driver) were fairly drunk. Andrew’s emotions had been odd that day, so he really needed an outlet. He was actually the one to suggest they go to the bar.
He didn’t even mean to do anything, but Zubin kept failing at picking up girls and went to sit next to Andrew at the booth. He was wallowing in his pity, clearly upset at the lack of success.
Seeing him like that honestly broke Andrews’s heart. All he did was put a hand on top of Zubin’s, it wasn’t his fault that Zubin leaned in.
It was on him, though, when he pulled Zubin closer and they ended up making out in the booth, only stopping because Ross ushered them out of the building when he realized the time.
They haven’t talked about that night. Not yet, at least. Andrew was clearly awkward around him the next day, as well as the day after that, and either Zubin was just pretending to not care, or he truly didn’t care enough to ask.
(That made Andrew’s heart sting a bit.)
Anyway, Andrew wasn’t exactly over it, but he was able to at least be normal around Zubin. That doesn’t mean his mind doesn’t wander whenever they’re alone though, as weird as that is.
“You alright?” Zubin broke Andrew out of his thoughts. He blinked a couple times, nodding yes and departing to one of the urinals as soon as it opened up.
Both men finished up quickly, exiting the bathroom and right as Andrew was about to start walking back Zubin grabbed him by the wrist.
“Hold on,” Oh God, what did he want? “I have something to talk to you about.”
“Yeah?-“ Right before Andrew could finish his sentence, Rob could be heard yelling at them from across the airport.
“COME ON YOU TWO, WE NEED TO GO!!” They saw Rob rushing their other two friends along, looking at each other and laughing before going to catch up.
“We barely made it.” Rob complained as he took his seat, Joe residing next to him in the middle with Ross on the aisle seat.
“Calm down, we’re on the plane now.” Joe said as he grabbed his neck pillow from his carry-on, exhaling hard as he relaxed. Ross just sat there comfortably, planes never being an issue for him as his height never made it inconvenient, watching Andrew and Zubin settle in the seats a few rows back from them (don’t blame them, they aren’t made of money). He caught Andrew’s eye, and he gave a thumbs up as a way to ask if they were good, to which Andrew returned it with a smile.
After quickly setting their luggage in the overhead bin, Andrew took the seat closest to the window, leaving Zubin in the middle seat. “Do you think somebody’s gonna take this seat?” Zubin asked, motioning to the empty seat next to him.
“I’d hope not, it’ll give you a little extra breathing room,” Andrew spoke, pretending to be enthralled with the ceiling of the plane to awkwardly avoid direct eye contact with the man next to him. God, these seats are right on top of each other, he thought, his leg bumping up against Zubin’s, making his heart ache with something akin to longing.
As a bit of time passed, the rest of the people on the plane had taken their seats, and yet nobody ended up taking the aisle seat in Zubin and Andrew’s row, much to Zubin’s satisfaction. Despite luck looking upon them, Zubin’s stomach sank at the realization that he was on a plane. As a result, he started shakily fidgeting around with his hands as well as sweating.
“What’s wrong? You look like you’re about to either start crying or get sick,” Andrew observed, frowning at the way that Zubin’s facial complexion turned pale and was lightly covered in a layer of fearful moisture.
Zubin sighed, closing his eyes and running his hands worriedly through his hair. “We’ve never flown together as a band, have we?” he asked, his leg nervously jittering from unsettled anxiety.
Andrew looked up in thought, brows furrowing. “I don’t think so.”
Zubin sighed again, this time louder and filled with apprehension. “I’m afraid of flying,” he blurted abruptly, “every time I get on a plane, I freak out. I know I’m gonna be fine, but there’s a small part of me that still worries.”
Andrew’s expression softened at the way Zubin hurriedly put his head into his hands, embarrassed at his own confession. Looking at the man in front of him, Andrew didn’t think; why would he think about the consequences of his actions when Zubin looked so uneasy, so helpless?
“Give me your hand, Zubes,” Andrew unthinkingly said in a hushed tone. Andrew guided his hand out in front of him and onto the arm rest that thinly separated his seat from Zubin’s.
Zubin slowly lowered his hands from his face and doubtfully looked at Andrew. Oh god, he’s just playing innocent before he starts to make fun of me, Zubin panicked, unaware that Andrew was worried about holding his hand earlier in the day. An additional layer of fear and anxiety clouded his brain, too scared to think rationally.
“I mean it, Zubin. Gimme your hand,” Andrew repeated gently, now mustering up the courage to stare directly at Zubin, rather than continuing to use his peripheral vision. By getting a good look at him, Andrew could physically see the tension that coursed through Zubin, his whole body was rigid and immobile.
Slowly, Zubin reluctantly placed his hand on top of Andrew’s, and Andrew laced their fingers together, gently squeezing Zubin’s hand with his own. Zubin exhaled through his nose, letting his eyes slip shut, focusing on the feeling of soft, soothing fingers between his own.
Just then, a flight attendant spoke over the intercom system.
“Hello, everybody! We should be departing shortly, and from there, we have about a two hour flight. Now, pay attention to our safety measures…” Both Andrew and Zubin zoned her voice out after that, too fixated on their own predicament.
“You’ll be okay. We’ll be okay,” Andrew reassured, although he wasn’t sure if there really was a we. Would he and Zubin be considered a we? Andrew quickly shoved the relationship concerns he had far down, into the back of his mind. God, Andrew wished that Zubin would’ve been able to say what he wanted to earlier; the uncertainty was eating away at him.
The taller man anxiously squeezed Andrew’s hand, a bit harder than he would’ve liked to, and kept his eyes shut. He silenced the rest of the world other than he and Andrew, and if it could only be them two at this moment, he would gladly have it that way.
“We’ve been cleared for take off,” the flight attendant told, much to Zubin’s dismay.
A flash of fear made its way though Zubin’s face, making him become even more antsy in his body language. “Come on, breathe with me,” Andrew instructed, taking Zubin’s free hand into own and placing it on his chest. Zubin opened his eyes, shocked from the location which it had landed on, before locking eyes with Andrew.
“Go in,” Andrew said, breathing in as an example and softly smiling at Zubin, suddenly aware of how many unspoken lines he was crossing; however, in the moment, it didn’t matter. Andrew pushed down any feelings that having Zubin’s hands on him could have elicited, his only goal being to make Zubin feel better.
Zubin breathed in at Andrew’s command, albeit shakily, supposing he should mimic what Andrew was doing. “Good- now breathe out,” Andrew continued. Zubin paused, the plane was starting to move forward at a faster pace, and his breath hitched from fear.
“Zubes, c’mon. All we have to do now is breathe out,” Andrew guided, now rubbing the back of Zubin’s hand with his thumb, hoping to add a layer of solace. Zubin exhaled, Andrew’s steady voice soothing his worries.
“Repeat it with me,” Andrew told, repeating the process of breathing slowly, giving Zubin’s hand a comforting, reassuring squeeze. The bassist complied, letting his breathing cycles synchronize with the pianist’s.
Moments later, the plane was off of the ground, signaling the beginning part of the flight (and the part that Zubin was most nervous of) was over. Zubin physically relaxed, tension melting from his stature.
“Oh, thank god,” Zubin sighed, bringing up his and Andrew’s hands, which were still laced together, and kissing the both of them. Andrew slowly blinked at Zubin, his body frozen and hesitant. “W-what was that for?” Andrew quizzed, face blushing and heart racing.
“Because you calmed me down,” Zubin said matter-of-factly, smiling, unaware of the way he was making Andrew’s mind run though different questions about him. “Zubin,” Andrew said, sighing, “What is this?”
“We fully made out earlier this month, you take my hand as if it’s the most normal thing to do, I just helped you calm down from a full-blown panic attack by holding your hand, and you just kissed my hand. Friends don’t do any of those things, and I’m sick of pretending like I want to be just friends,” Andrew continued, looking at Zubin with nervous uncertainty.
The younger man looked down sheepishly, a soft smile appearing on his face, as he shook his head. “Andrew, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about earlier. If Rob could’ve waited two seconds to start screaming at us, we wouldn’t be here,” Zubin mumbled, glaring at Rob, or rather the back of Rob’s head, who was sitting a couple rows in front.
“Look, I’m an asshole. I know that I should’ve said something after the bar… encounter, but I was scared that things would become awkward; we were both drunk that day, and I didn’t know if it meant anything to you,” Zubin explained, taking both of Andrew’s hands into his, rubbing his palms slowly with his thumbs.
“I’ve been thinking about it since then,” Andrew hurriedly confessed, looking away from Zubin meekly. “So have I, which makes me feel even worse. I like you a lot, and I want to do so much more than nervously hold your hand and drunkenly kiss you,” Zubin said, smiling a soft, genuine smile.
Andrew’s heartbeat picked up, shyly bringing Zubin’s hands closer to him. “I like you too,” he whispered, “if you don’t want labels, that’s fine, but can I be something to you?”
“Be my boyfriend,” Zubin urged, “I’ll be yours in return.” Andrew grinned at his newly labeled boyfriend, now kissing the backs of Zubin’s hands as payback for earlier. Zubin giggled and fully held Andrew’s hand, their fingers interlocked as he exhaled hard.
“You’re gonna have to hold my hand this entire plane ride.” He said, Andrew laughing and nodding. “I will, I promise.”